Even though I’m awake I keep my eyes purposely shut. I listen. That’s a lie. I stick my well endowed nose in the air and take a deep sniff. God formed me and breathed into my nostrils the breath<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-38I" data-link="(I)” style=”box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; text-align: start; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;”> of life. I’m trying to figure out if Larry started a pot of coffee even though I can’t quite remember where I am? I’m Janna Levine toying with the idea of quantum physics. What is my true reality? At sleep or awake?
When I detect the faint aroma of ground beans wafting through the air I sigh with relief. I consider sending a text – Coffee Please – or just getting up and making my way to the kitchen. First I have to figure out if it’s Wednesday or Thursday? You would think after fifty years of use my brain would be a well oiled machine but clearly I’m due for a tune up. I peek and let my eyes scan the left side of the bed. Empty, but when I stretch out my leg, the sheets are still warm. Adam and his wife were both naked,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-56AM" data-link="(AM)” style=”box-sizing: border-box; font-family: “arial” , “helvetica” , sans-serif; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;”> and they felt no shame. He just left, the coffee is probably still brewing, I remain blind.
Now I listen. I hear the water lapping against the rock, the crows stirring up the swallows, and the neighbor’s gardner blowing the yard. I hate the sound of blowers. I open my eyes. It’s Thursday, that’s the day the gardeners tackle the foliage at Kono Tayee, my oasis has been compromised. God planted a garden and there is where God put me. In the middle of the garden God planted the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.
I glance to the right, the pile of books I’ve yet to read gives me a taste of anxiety, but the iPhone resting on top of the pile is truly my bitter pill. I battle the urge to check my social media. Losing. I tell myself I need the iPhone to retrieve my Oprah meditation on weight loss. If I don’t meditate I might eat bacon. So I reach for the apple like eve and take that first forsaken bite. Damn. I’m instantly thrown out of the blissful garden and into the land of bullshit.
God said to the woman, “What is this you have done?”
The woman said, “The serpent deceived me,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-69BG" data-link="(BG)” style=”box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;”> and I ate.”
I long to return to that place of innocence, worries left behind, intermingling with God, bold and unashamed. But its too late, I am fully aware of good and evil. My life was not consummated in a single bite. If I choose to deny evil, I also deny what is good. When I choose which relationships to foster, I also choose who to exclude. When I’m living the dream, I deny the poverty around me. When I listen to your words, I sometimes deny my own. When I sip the fruit of the vine, I mask my own reality. I stand with one leg in the garden, one leg out, twittering back and forth, searching for a place to belong.
When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-62AT" data-link="(AT)” style=”box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;”> for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-62AU" data-link="(AU)” style=”box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;”> who was with her, and he ate it.<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-62AV" data-link="(AV)” style=”box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;”> Then the eyes of both of them were opened. Sometimes I want to belong so badly that I step completely out of the garden. The evil springing up in me takes on a life of it’s own and I marvel at the appeal. I know what needs to be done, but I resist the crown of thorns, and the path to crucifixion. There is no win, win. I can grovel all I want in the garden, but if I seek change in the world, I must first pursue change in me.
Larry walks in the room carrying two steaming cups of coffee. I place my iPhone back on the nightstand. He slips in next to me. We sip our warm brew in silence. God said, The man has now become like one of us,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-78CA" data-link="(CA)” style=”box-sizing: border-box; font-family: “arial” , “helvetica” , sans-serif; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;”> knowing good and evil. He must not be allowed to reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-78CB" data-link="(CB)” style=”box-sizing: border-box; font-family: “arial” , “helvetica” , sans-serif; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;”> and eat, and live forever. We bridge these worlds at dawn, soft, crusty, still unaware. Listening to the sound of the blower from our neighbors yard, we smile, and shake our heads. I stay focused on the glittering water, the ducks gliding on the smooth surface, a couple completely in sync. I say, “What shall we do with our day?” Larry says, “Some of us have to work.” He leaves to refill our cups…
and I resist reaching for the apple.
and I resist reaching for the apple.
The magic begins in the comments…
You might also enjoy: Look Both Ways Before Crossing or The Thing About Love
Living in the Gap 